


A Mark That Could Not Be Rubbed Out

by aelingreywaren



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Feelings, Goodbyes, Romance, Words left unsaid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 21:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15128579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelingreywaren/pseuds/aelingreywaren
Summary: Set after the events of 5x08 - Bellamy takes Clarke's place in solitary after knocking Octavia out, and finds a way to keep his promise to her. An angsty goodbye, because no one does them quite like Bellarke.“Maybe one of these days you and I will stop leaving each other Princess”“Maybe one day we will finally have a choice.”





	A Mark That Could Not Be Rubbed Out

**Author's Note:**

> Title lyrics from Woes by Tom Rosenthal
> 
> "I put three daisies in the notebook  
> And watched the petals all fall out  
> It made a mark upon the paper  
> A mark that could not be rubbed out"

The march deeper into the bunker was a lonely one, despite the fact that he was surrounded by guards, the one with the tightest grip on his shoulder none other than Miller. So much for the hundred indeed.

He knew his fate had been sealed the moment he told Octavia he had made a deal with Diyoza.

 _Alea iacta est_.

But the die had been cast the moment she had taken Clarke, for there was no world in which he could exist if he let his sister kill Clarke. And so he’d made his choice, and even if the plan had failed he would have made it over and over again. He’d known it since Mount Weather, he would do anything to protect her. _His sister, his responsibility_ – he just never imagined it would mean protecting her from his sister.

Afterwards everything had happened in lightning speed. Indra had been the first to enter, and their eyes had met for the briefest of moments. _Thank you_ , he imagined they said, _for doing what I was not strong enough to do_. But seconds later Miller and the rest of the guards had charged in, and chaos erupted. You would think he would have been used to being in chains, but the cuffs around his wrists still felt unbearably tight. Such is the fate of being an enemy of Wonkru.

He’s stirred from his thoughts as they come to a halt in front of a steel door.

“Go,” Miller gestures towards the rest of the guards, “I’ll take it from here.”

They left so they were standing alone in the hallway, Bellamy’s heart pounding and blood rushing to his head.

“What the hell happened to you Nate?”

His old friend stared at the wall impassively, refusing to meet his eye. Bellamy scoffed, “I bet your dad would be proud to see you now.” The words were cruel and taunting, and Bellamy knew they were unfair, but life had ceased to be anything but unjust for a while now.

With that Miller snapped, and Bellamy found himself back against the cool wall and Miller’s arm pressed against his throat.

“You don’t know anything about what happened to me Bellamy,” he hissed. “You have no idea the kinds of things we’ve all done down here to survive.”

Bellamy was reminded of what Echo said before leaving, she’d told him something bad had happened down here, something everyone refused to talk about. Bellamy gulped, something told him he didn’t want to find out.

He shook his head, “We have all done terrible things to survive. But we always have a choice – we chose how to repent for those mistakes.”

The two stood frozen for what could have been hours. Bellamy refused to fight back, he was so tired of fighting.

Eventually Miller bowed his head and sighed, “I know.”

Suddenly Bellamy felt the weight around his wrists disappear, and he felt his hands free of the chains that had been binding him.

Bellamy frowned, “What are you doing?”

Miller stared him straight in the eyes, “Making a choice.”

* * *

 

It was hard to believe that just a week ago he’d found Clarke in a similar room, alone in solitary laying on a bench. This time she was standing, pacing the room back and forth, no doubt trying to come up with a plan to save them and get them all out of this mess. He wanted to smile at the thought, it was classic Clarke.

He didn’t have too long to study her from a distance, as she quickly noticed the intrusion into her cell.

Miller placed a key in his hands and placed a hand on his shoulder, “I’ll be back in ten. You won’t have much time after that.”

Bellamy nodded and stopped to grip his forearm before he left, “Thank you.”

Miller swallowed heavily and nodded.

The moment the door shut behind him, Bellamy ran over to reach Clarke who was standing frozen in place, her brows knitted together in confusion.

“Bellamy I don’t understand, please, what’s going on – what are you doing here? Where’s Octavia?”

He looked her over, save from the handcuffs around her own wrists she didn’t seem to be hurt.

“I’ll explain everything, give me your hands.”

Ever so gently he took her wrists in his hands, and unlocked the cuffs from around them. He frowned at the red welts beneath them, and instinctively rubbed his fingers along them.

Clarke winced, and shook her arms out.

Her eyes turned upwards to meet his, “Bellamy _please_ , what’s going on.”

“We don’t have much time,” and so he recounted to her everything that had just happened since he last saw her, since he last promised to keep Madi safe. He had done what he could, but if he was going to fulfill that promise completely, they needed to hurry.

“So what now?” Clarke asked, “Huh? Now we’re both stuck in here.”

Bellamy shook his head, “No. Both of us aren’t. Miller’s gone to get Madi and some supplies for the both of you. He’ll be back soon, and then he and Indra will help you slip out.”

He saw her open her mouth to argue, he’d anticipated that, “Everything is chaos right now, everyone is focused on Octavia – the guards have her quarters surrounded, and patrols all over Polis. We’re not the only ones eager to give her up for a chance at surrender. It’s now or never Clarke, this is your only chance to get out.”

She shook her head, “And what about you Bellamy? If you expect me to just leave you behind in this cell you’re insane.”

“That is exactly what I expect you to do.” His words were coming out harsher than he expected, but they didn’t have time for niceties now.

“I have to stay Clarke, I’ll make sure Diyoza follows through with the deal.”

Clarke shook her head again, working through the realities that Bellamy had already come to terms with the moment he swapped out the pieces of ration.

He felt her move closer to him and plead with him through her eyes, “Bellamy when Octavia wakes up she’s going to kill you.”

She wasn’t wrong, it was a possibility.

“I’m willing to take that risk,” he whispered.

“Well I’m not!”

Her words echoed off the sides of the wall, filling the room with their weight. They stared at each other, soundless words passing between them. Seconds past that felt more like hours, and he could have stood there beginning for her to understand forever. But deep down he knew she did, because she had done the same for them not so long ago.

" _Clarke_ , I have to do this. Please understand." 

She sighed and bowed her head in defeat, “You really took out Octavia?”

He nodded and moved closer to her, “Yes.”

“But,” Clarke moved slowly towards him, her lips moving with no sound coming out as if she was struggle to find the right words to say “she’s your family.”

He exhaled shakily, she was right, but some things were stronger than blood.

He met her gaze head on, imploring her to see everything he couldn’t admit behind his eyes. “So are you.”

He saw her shoulders start to shake and her composure begin to waver, and so he closed the space between them and pulled her into his arms gently, not caring about boundaries or lines anymore. When it came to Clarke Griffin he would cross them all.

“It has to be done Clarke, if it didn’t I -,” _I never would leave you again_. “It’s our only choice.”

She buried herself deeper into his arms and shook her head, “I hate that saying.”

He laughed, “our favourite oxymoron.”

They stood like that in silence and he rubbed circles into her back.

“I promised you,” he began – the words hard to choke out, “I promised you that I would keep Madi safe. And I promised her that I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you.”

He felt the corners of his eyes begin to sting, “Please _Clarke_ ,” her name always felt like a prayer on his lips, “Please let me keep that promise.”

He feels her nod as drops of tears she’s failing to hide drop against the bare skin of his neck.

“ _Bellamy_ ,” she breathes his name into his neck. He can feel her lips against the top of his shoulder, and soft as a feather they send shivers down his spine. “I can’t lose you again.”

His hand is gripping the back of her neck so tight, but he can’t stop himself. He buries his hands in her head and comes to rest his chin atop her mess of blond curls. Had he ever told her how much he loved the way they blinded him in the sun – impossible not to be alerted by her presence? One of the many things he’d left unsaid.

He bends his head down and rests his lips against the crux of her forehead, pressing them to her cold skin so tightly.

“You won’t.”

They pull apart from each other ever so slightly, just enough so he can bend down and stare into her eyes. They’re rimmed with red, framed by tears that course down her dampened cheeks. He’s reminded of an all too familiar goodbye 6 years ago, and he brings his hand up to her cheek to brush them away.

How many times had they stood like this, saying goodbye when they really meant something else entirely. When they really meant 

 _stay_.

He could ask her to, he could fall down to his knees and beg her not to leave him. He’d done it before after Mount Weather, and watching her go despite it had wrecked him. But something told him that this time it would be different. This time he didn’t think either of them would have the strength to leave, if either of them begged for them not to go.

He smirks at the unfairness of it all – here they were back on the ground inches away from one another, their breaths mingling in the space between their lips and yet Bellamy might as well have been miles away up in space, because that’s what they were to each other really. She was the earth, and the sun, and the centre of his universe, and he would always be in her orbit – coming close, but never quite close enough – doomed to be pulled apart again, and again.

He swallowed and caressed her cheek with his thumb, “Maybe one of these days you and I will stop leaving each other Princess.”

Maybe one of these days the Earth will be kind to us, and we will have the future we could have deserved before the ground took children and taught them to be monsters.

She choked out a sob, “maybe one day we will finally have a choice” and he pulled her close to him once more.

Up on the Ark he had made a list of all the things he should have told her. For weeks he wrote them down every hour of every day, variations of the three words he would regret holding in until his dying day.  

I missed you. I failed you. I trusted you. I needed you.

I wanted you.

I loved you.

 _I love you_.

He had loved her, and he loved her still and would until his dying day. And the Gods be damned, he would not let that day be today.

He brushed her hair carefully behind her ear and kissed the crook of her neck, as she had done just moments before. He felt her shiver, and lean into his touch, and every fibre of his being ached. How cruel it is to hold what you love, only to know you have to let it go.

With a heavy inhale he gave her his heart, “I will find you – you hear me Clarke. I will find you and we will meet again.”

They pulled apart one last time and he searched her broken beautiful eyes.

“We will meet again Clarke. Do you trust me?”

She nodded fervently, and he smiled at seeing the fierceness in her eyes. _I trust you_ , six years since the end of the world and the words rang truer than ever.

She fixed him under her gaze, “You still have hope.”

It wasn’t a question.

His mouth curled upwards, a half smile for a half joke.

“We’re still breathing.”

The door to the cell opened, and as promised Miller was there with a bag of supplies in one hand and rifle in the other. Bellamy could only just make out the shadow of Madi behind him. It was time.

“Time to go,” Miller looked between the two of them with pity. It wasn’t enough to make up for his betrayals or explain what had happened in the bunker, what had made him turn his back on his friends, but if it got Clarke and Madi to safety, Bellamy would take the apology a hundred times over.

Bellamy nodded in his direction, and then turned to Clarke, “Go. Find out friends – don’t worry about me. I’ve gotten myself out of worse messes than this.”

Both of them knew it was a lie, but it was easier than the truth. She untangled herself from his arms and turned to go. He pulled his gaze to the floor, unable to watch her leave, he didn’t need another memory to haunt his dreams.

But before the door closed, he felt a rush of air and saw a flash of blonde as she flung herself into his arms.

It was one of those moments where you wished time would stop, that something would slow it down, but people don’t get that lucky.

Before he could comprehend what was going on, her hands were on the side of his face and the last thing he saw was that fierce determination in her eyes that was quintessentially and uniquely Clarke.

She pressed her lips to his, and he gripped her hips pulling her as close as he could – trying desperately to mold their bodies into one. He kissed her back, their lips pouring everything they could never say into that flash of a moment. Desperate, aching, and painful all at once. Shakespeare couldn’t have written a worse tragedy than the two of them, but God he wouldn’t change a thing.

But it was over practically before it had begun, and he felt the cool air brush his lips once hers had left his. She kissed him once more, softly, barely brushing his lips. If the first kiss had been the crash, the second was the fading of the tide – an ellipsis, not an ending. A promise that their story was not over. A promise of more.

Clarke whispered into the space between them.

“Please don’t die.”

She finally pulled away, and Bellamy stood shell shocked and scorched, her lips still imprinted on his. He knew they would be forever, a mark that could not be rubbed out.

“I promise.”

He had broken promises in his life, but none to her – never to her.

They left the room, and the door shut leaving him in silence.

There are a thousand ways to say I love you, and a thousand ways to say goodbye – they would know, the two of them, cycling through every variant they could conjure, but none of that mattered now. He had only one way to make everything they had been through, everything she had sacrificed for them count.

 _Survive_.

**Author's Note:**

> "Oh, honey I'm worried 'bout you  
> You're too much to lose  
> You're all that I have  
> And, honey I'm worried 'bout you  
> Put yourself in my shoes  
> You're all that I have so please don't die  
> Wherever you are tonight"
> 
> Please Don't Die - Father John Misty


End file.
